


Stay With Me

by TracyLorde



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracyLorde/pseuds/TracyLorde
Summary: I had a few requests to write more of a prompt fill I did, so I'm posting the whole thing here. If you've read through "You've Got the Love" you've already come across the first half of this, but the part after the break is new.Edit: 1/7/18: part after the second break is new





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> For @bellamynochillblake, @parapluiepliant, @annieik03 and @jasperjoordan.

 

 

Clarke’s phone beeped and she glanced down to look at it as she opened her car door.  _New Voicemail, Octavia Blake._

Clarke had just finished an extremely long shift, and in most cases wouldn’t bother checking her voicemail until she’d gotten some sleep. But it struck her as odd that Octavia would call her, let alone leave a message. Something must be wrong.

Something was.

 _“Hey, I don’t know if you heard, but I know Bellamy didn’t tell you,”_ Octavia’s voice sounded hoarse over the phone, _“Mom passed away in hospice last night. I’m on my way to Bell now, but I’m stuck at O’Hare for the foreseeable future, and I can’t get a hold of him. I just don’t want him to be alone, Clarke. If you can, do you think you could stop by and make sure he’s ok? You’ll probably be at work when you get this, but…”_ Octavia was audibly crying now, _“I just knew you’d want to know.”_

Clarke sat in her car in stunned silence. Aurora was gone. She’d been in hospice care for the past several months, and everyone had known she wasn’t going to live long past the last round of chemo. Octavia had been away at school, because Bellamy had insisted she finish her last semester. He was alone now with this.

Clarke didn’t even consider not going straight over to Bellamy’s, despite the  fact that she was dead tired, having just worked a 7-7 overnight.

He didn’t answer the door at first, but she didn’t give up. She called him when he still did respond after several minutes. While waiting to see if he’d pick up, she tried the door. It was unlocked. _Fuck, Bellamy._

The apartment was dark when she entered, all the blinds drawn. Clarke took a moment to adjust her eyes. It was cleaner than she would have thought. There was a basket of crumpled laundry by the couch, and a few beer bottles littered the kitchen countertops, but other than that it was the same neat place she’d seen before.

Bellamy was nowhere to be seen. He must be in the bedroom. Clarke wondered how he hadn’t heard her knocking, and worry crept over her as she tiptoed towards the bedroom door.

He was lying on his stomach, face turned away from her, covers pulled back from his bare torso. She could see his shoulders rise and fall with shallow breaths. There was a half empty bottle of whisky on the nightstand.

Closing the door gently behind her, she returned to the kitchen and began to quietly tidy up. She wanted to give Bellamy his sister’s message, but she didn’t want to wake him. Knowing him, he hadn’t slept well in months and only now that Aurora was gone had he allowed himself to rest.

She was in the middle of folding the basket of laundry when Bellamy’s door creaked open, and she saw him. He had pulled on a t-shirt, his eyes were red and puffy, and his whole frame was heavy with grief. He saw her, and his face softened.

“Clarke,” he croaked, “What are you doing here?”

“Octavia called me,” Clarke rose up from her seat and slowly approached him. “She said she’s stuck in Chicago and couldn’t get you on the phone. She just wanted me to check in.” Clarke felt the tears well up in her eyes and suppressed them. “Bell, I’m so sorry.”

It was when she spoke his name that Bellamy broke down. Clarke closed the distance between them and flung her arms round him. She felt his pain as a tightness in her own chest. 

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured again. They stood locked in each other’s arms for some time, Clarke finally pulling back to see that Bellamy had composed himself slightly. She gently brushed a stray tear from his cheek. He seemed to be attempting to smile, but instead just pulled his mouth into a tight line.

“When’s the last time you ate something?” she asked, searching his face with a worried expression.

“I don’t remember,” he answered honestly.

“Sit down,” she said, pushing him towards the couch, “I’ll make some scrambled eggs or something.”

“You don’t have to do that, Clarke,” he protested, but sat down anyway. “I’m not even hungry.”

“Well, I’m starving,” Clarke replied. “And you can’t survive off just beer and whiskey, Bell. Sit down.”

He muttered something under his breath but relaxed his shoulders and melted back into the couch.

Clarke busied herself in the kitchen and within a few minutes had made a plate of eggs and toast for each of them. Bellamy recovered his appetite and ate greedily.

He looked a little more focused, a little more like himself, when he’d finished. Clarke cleared the plates, then returned to sit next to him. Bellamy reached a hand out and placed it on Clarke’s knee. “You really don’t have to be here, Clarke. You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine, I just got off work.”

“You should get some rest,” he took her hand. “Stay here with me.”

“Alright,” she smiled weakly. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No, please,” he murmured, “Stay with me.”

Clarke met his eyes, and behind all the pain of the past several hours, she saw the longing she’d always seen there when he looked at her.

“Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll stay with you.”

\---

Bellamy didn’t let go of her hand as he led her into the bedroom. He paused awkwardly by the bed, staring down at her, wavering with exhaustion. Clarke worried that he was going to collapse.

“Sit down,” she whispered, pushing him towards the bed and gently extricating her hand from his. “These clothes are uncomfortable, I’m going to borrow one of your shirts.”

A smile flickered across his tired eyes, but no sooner had he taken a seat on the bed than he sighed deeply and hid his head in his hands. Clarke turned away quickly, desperate not to cry. It wouldn’t be fair to Bellamy if he were to catch her, she knew that he would somehow still prioritize her feelings above his own and this would be the absolute worst time for that.

She crossed to the other side of the room and grabbed a soft blue t-shirt from the open dresser drawer. Pulling off her top, she slid his shirt over her head, and then slipped out of her jeans.  The shirt reached halfway down her thigh–it would do. She folded her clothes and set them in a neat pile.

Bellamy hadn’t moved when she returned to his side. She gently hopped onto the bed beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up at her, just leaned into her touch. Clarke wrapped her arm round him and, pulling the blankets over them, gently lowered him down onto his pillow.

She was curled into his side, hand resting on his abdomen. She gently brushed the curls back from his forehead and watched as his eyelids fluttered for a moment, then remained still as his breathing slowed.

It was then that the tears briefly spilled over onto Clarke’s cheeks. She quickly got control of herself. Bellamy needed to rest. She didn’t want to wake him.

He slept for a few hours, barely moving at all. Clarke couldn’t sleep, but rested her head on his chest and tried not to think about anything too intensely. She wondered how long Octavia would be stuck in Chicago. She hoped she wasn’t traveling alone. Bellamy would still be alone too if his sister hadn’t called Clarke. The Blakes weren’t great at looking out for themselves, but at least they had each other.

Bellamy woke with a start a few hours later. Clarke had almost begun to doze when she felt Bellamy catch his breath and try to sit up. She leaned up on her elbow and gently stroked his curls.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, then, when he saw registered her presence, he almost smiled. “You stayed.”

The surprise in his voice broke her heart. “Of course I stayed,” she replied, laying back down on his chest and closing her eyes.

“I just…I knew it was going to happen soon,” Bellamy sounded tired, but his voice was steadier than it had been, “but I still wasn’t ready. I didn’t think it would be this hard, after everything we’d been through already. I thought it would be easier, when her suffering was over.”

“No one’s ever ready,” Clarke said softly. “And it’s almost harder when you know it’s coming. With my dad, he was there one hour and gone the next. I wish I had a chance to say goodbye to him, but I’m glad it was quick, for his sake.”

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy murmured, “I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“It’s fine, Bell. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, remember? Let me do that, please.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, and clumsily ran a hand over her hair. They were quiet for a while, and Clarke thought he had fallen asleep again until Bellamy broke the silence.

“I’m glad Octavia called you.”

“Me too,” she replied. “You know you can always call me yourself, Bell, right? I need you to know that.”

“Clarke, I…” Bellamy cleared his throat, searching for the words. “I do know that, I just…”

“Ok, good,” she replied a little more fiercely than she intended, then softly added, “I care about you. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me.”

“I care about you too,” he replied a little thickly, then pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

\---

Of all the heartbreaking, devastating things that had happened to Bellamy in the past 24 hours, the only truly surprising thing had been that Clarke had stayed. 

He knew she still cared about him, in the way Clarke cared about everyone. She couldn't help herself. But they had broken up two years ago, and he sure as hell hadn't expected her to show up at his apartment after Aurora passed. He had Octavia to thank for that, he guessed. 

It didn’t seem real, particularly given the state of numbness he was in. Clarke was still laying in his bed hours later, still wearing his t-shirt, still gazing over at him with concern barely masked. The rain beat against the window as if to reaffirm the grief that hung thick in the air. They lay facing each other now, staring into each other’s eyes. It was the most intimacy he’d shared with anyone since they’d broken up. He hadn't need whiskey to get through the night, for the first time in a long time. That was something. 

“It’s got to be almost noon,” he remarked. “You don't have to work?”

Clarke shook her head. “I don't work today. Do you want to be alone? I can run the last load of laundry and get out of your hair, if that’s what you want…”

Bellamy bit his lip. “No. Don’t go. I’d like you to stay, if you want to stay.”

Clarke sighed deeply. She hadn't broken eye contact, and he knew she was trying to determine his mental state without having to ask.

“I missed you,” he admitted. “I missed you a lot, Clarke.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry it took this to bring me back here. I should have checked in before.”

“It’s fine, Clarke, really.”

“No, it’s not,” she replied with heat. “I hate myself for it. I got so caught up in my own life, I completely abandoned you.”

Bellamy smiled. He couldn't help it, she was so concerned about something that wasn't her fault. Just like Clarke. “Clarke, we broke up. A long time ago. You have your life, I have mine. This is mine now…and yeah, it sucks,” he felt the tears spring to his eyes again but continued, “but it won’t always. I’ll be ok.”

“I know you will,” she murmured back, reaching over to grasp his hand. He squeezed back. “That’s not what I meant, though.”

“What did you mean?”

“I meant I never should have left in the first place.”

“You mean…you regret breaking up?”

“Yes…I know, this is terrible timing. I’m being selfish right now. I just can’t help but think how differently things would have gone if we were still together. You probably would have had more time with your mom, and I could have helped out in other ways too—“ her voice began to break and she trailed off. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy sighed, “you can’t blame yourself for any of this. It happened. It was going to happen for a long time. Nothing would have prevented that. And it’s my fault we broke up, anyway.”

“No, please don’t say that,” Clarke begged. “You know it’s not true. I should have tried harder. I shouldn’t have given up.”

“No, you shouldn't have,” he countered. “I was being an ass.”

A flicker of a smile appeared on Clarke’s face. “I never said you weren’t.”

Bellamy chuckled, and grasped her hand a little tighter. “Fair enough.”

“I just wish we’d stuck it out. I wish I had been here for you through all of it. You deserve to have someone here with you.”

Bellamy shrugged. “Maybe. But that doesn't mean anything, at the end of the day.”

Her face fell, and he wished he hadn't said it. 

“I just mean…it’s fine, Clarke. And you’re here now. I’ve never deserved you, honestly, and I sure as hell don’t now.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “When are you going to realize that isn’t true, Bellamy Blake?”

He cradled the side of her face in his hand, wiping the tear away. She was so beautiful, and she was crying for him. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe never.” 

“I wish you wouldn't say that,” she whispered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, and kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr!](https://tracylorde.tumblr.com)


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